


Walls of Stone

by RandomnonsenseDA (B1nary_S0lo)



Series: Rora Surana [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Character Study, Circle of Magi, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, Mage Origin, Mages and Templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B1nary_S0lo/pseuds/RandomnonsenseDA
Summary: Rora works up the courage to talk to Cullen. But even with the Harrowing behind her, her possibilities are limited.





	Walls of Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my gosh, I can hardly believe I managed to finish a Rora x Cullen story. I’ve been trying for literal years, but my past attempts never came together.
> 
> This is basically a dramatization of that one conversation with Cullen in the mage origin, but with a lot of internal monologue from Rora about what's going through her head at this point in her life. Sort of a character study disguised as a Cullen x Mage Warden story.

Rora hurried down the corridor to Irving’s office, so elated she could have skipped. Not even Jowan’s pessimism could ruin her mood. She’d passed her Harrowing. She was a true mage now.

For years, Rora had thought of little else. Growing older in the Circle, there had been days when she couldn’t breathe, days when the world crushed her like collapsing stone. She saw her future laid out endlessly, every day the same as the last, and she wanted to scream.

But she felt none of that today. The world was bright, full of color and possibility. She would move up to the mages’ quarters now, study Spirit Healing and eventually take on apprentices of her own. If she was lucky, perhaps one day she would leave the Circle to sell potions, or heal someone important. Fewer doors were closed to a talented, well-behaved mage, and Rora meant to be just that.

Then she rounded the next corner, and all these thoughts flew straight out of her head. Quickly, she backed up the way she’d come and peered around the wall, heart in her throat.

 _He_ was there, standing guard just a few feet away. That Templar. Cullen.

Sparks burst in her stomach, like they always did when she saw him. He stood straight and tall, almost unmoving except for occasional shifting from foot to foot. The torches in the corridor caught his golden, tightly curled hair so that it sparkled like a halo.

Cullen had been at the Circle six months now, but Rora had yet to have a real conversation with him. He had a good reputation, for a Templar, and the apprentices who’d talked to him said he was soft-spoken and polite. Rora’s brief interactions with him, though limited to quick glances and short greetings, seemed to confirm this. He was also extraordinarily handsome, a detail even she hadn’t missed.

A pleasant shiver ran through her. There were rumors that Cullen fancied her, but Rora found them impossible to believe. She didn’t see how the most handsome Templar in the Circle could notice her when no one else ever seemed to. Not like _that_ , anyway.

Seeing him now, she wanted to run away or hurry past like she usually did. Talking to him was out of the question. It would just confirm what she already knew—he wasn’t interested in her, and probably barely remembered who she was. The faint hope that the rumors _might_ be true only made the risk of disappointment worse. Better to avoid him altogether.

As Rora contemplated moving, Cullen yawned and scratched his head. There was a frown on his face—a thinking sort of frown, not an angry one—as he glanced from one end of the corridor to the other. It was like he was lonely, and she felt another pleasant shiver. Even from a distance, there was something endearing about Cullen.

The shiver settled through her, turning into a kind of warm assurance in her belly. She was a mage now, she remembered, not a scared little apprentice. She had entered the Fade and returned unharmed. Talking to Cullen couldn’t be any harder. At least, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Rora took a deep breath and let it out, just as she might have done to focus herself before a spell. Then she rounded the corner.

As she neared Cullen’s spot, it occurred to her that she hadn’t planned out what she was going to say. Just “Hello,” would probably suffice, but it would also be easy to dismiss. Should she ask how he was? That might be too familiar. Luckily, before she could really panic, the decision was made for her.

“Oh, um—"

“Huh?” The sound she made was strangled, almost more of a “hah?” and she half jumped as she said it, not so much stopping as freezing in the position she landed in. Cullen’s eyes were wide and alarmed.

“I-I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said. “I just wanted to say… hello.”

“Oh.”

Rora’s fists were balled, and she unclenched them. She tried to relax her body, but she couldn’t help pulling her shoulders up to her ears. When she spoke, it was in a small voice.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he said, smiling shyly. “I-um… I’m glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly.”

Rora stood straighter, eyes widening in surprise. He knew about her Harrowing?

“Oh.” Her face went hot. “Thank you.”

Rora’s brain screamed at her to say something, anything more, but all her mental faculties were taken up with the knowledge that Cullen _knew who she was_. Worse, she’d made the mistake of looking directly at him, and now she was distracted by the perfect, square curve of his jaw and it’s dusting of light-colored stubble. She was suddenly overcome with curiosity about what his stubble would feel like under her fingers, and then embarrassment that she’d even thought such a thing.

Cullen filled the silence, thankfully.

“Th-they picked me as the Templar to strike the killing blow if… if you became an abomination,” he said. His tone was apologetic. “I-it’s nothing personal. I swear.”

He looked genuinely distressed, uncomfortable. It was funny how these things worked. This information should have bothered her, but instead her mind was now grappling with the fact that he’d been at her Harrowing and she hadn’t even realized it.

“I didn’t recognize you,” she said. She pointed at her head and shrugged. “Helmet.” Internally, she winced. _Maker, strike me dead on the spot._

He laughed, even though it wasn’t funny, and scratched his own head.

“Anyway, I’m just glad you’re all right, you know,” he said. “I mean, I thought you would be.”

His eyes settled on hers, gaze warm as his voice. She’d never noticed the golden color of his eyes before, and they added to the warmth of his gaze. More shivers filled her from head to toe.

“Did you?” she said.

“Of course. Everyone always says how good you are. At magic, that is.” He laughed again, nervously. His eyes were still on hers, but then he glanced away, blushing, and suddenly Rora understood. Maker’s mercy, he _did_  fancy her.

“I—” She cleared her throat, noticing a funny ache there. “I… shouldn’t distract you from your duties.”

“Oh, you’re not distracting,” he said. Horror flashed across his face. “I mean, you are, but… well, you’re not—” He wiped his brow, shook his head. “I mean, you can talk to me anytime, if you want.”

He smiled brightly, and she couldn’t keep herself from smiling back, despite the ache that now resounded in her chest. She clasped her hands to her heart. “That would be nice.”

“Uh… uh, yes!” His voice was bright. “Maybe we can talk another time.”

“Yes.”

She backed away, knowing she needed to leave but not wanting to. Her mind was already forming plans, turning over where they could meet, and when. What they could do.

She _really_ needed to leave.

“Well, um, bye,” she forced out.

She turned, and half ran the rest of the way down the corridor.

As Rora turned the next corner that would lead to Irving’s office, her walk slowed, and her heart along with it. The plans she’d been forming fell apart even as she contemplated them, and the ache in her chest grew.

What was she thinking? It was one thing to fancy a Templar, but acting on it was another thing entirely. Those types of relationships _never_ ended well for the mage. Templars got tired of you, secrets grew too large to keep. There were rumors about her and Cullen even with nothing to go on. Add fuel to that fire and the story would become unstoppable. It would ruin her.

She stopped walking. That feeling of breathlessness, of being crushed by stone, dropped down on her for the first time since her Harrowing. She wished she didn’t know about Cullen’s feelings for her, wished she could have left well enough alone. She saw her future laid out before her—two paths now, the tragic and the dull. Those were her choices. Her only two until the day she died.


End file.
